


of threnodies

by sadclown



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, but he loves richie more, eddie loves his blanket, stupid sonia kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadclown/pseuds/sadclown
Summary: Richie was more comforting than the blanket ever was.





	of threnodies

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoy!  
> warmth

_12:34_

When Eddie was younger, he used to force himself to stay up late so he could see those numbers show up on his neon green digital clock that sat on his bedside table. He ignored his heavy eyelids and felt excitement surge through him as the satisfactory of seeing the numbers in the specific order of 1,2,3,4 pulsed through him.

Now Eddie was sixteen, and he felt a familiar sickness rumble from deep within his stomach from seeing that time again. He wasn’t even the least bit tired, tossing and turning becoming his specialty. Seeing those numbers now just meant he wasn’t going to fall asleep for another hour or so.

He turned on his side, trying to get more comfortable, and tightened his hold on his blanket.

It was unlike the other blankets that were only on the bed for décor and warmth for when he slept. It was special. Ever since he was seven years old he had slept with that blanket. _Cuddled with it_ was a more appropriate term. Back when his father was alive, he had given him that blanket. Now he has still snuggled up to the blanket ever since. It was a soft green, a warm and cool tone. Soft to the touch.

He had sobbed hysterically into the blanket when he had found out his medicine was fake. When he came home day after day after being severely harassed and taunted for being gay. When his father died. He had laughed giddily into it the night before he had left to go on a road trip with the losers. When he first came out to his friends and they had accepted him. When he had kissed Richie for the first time. The blanket had been there for him every time. Every time.

When he was twelve, Richie had snuck over like he usually had, and Eddie had been sleeping until he woke up to the feeling of a soft poke on the side of his cheek.

“Eds. Hey, Eds. It’s me, scoot.”

Eddie groaned, snuggling more into his blanket. “Go ‘way, Rich. There’s no room.”

He heard a soft chuckle, felt a nudge against his arm, and then: “Just move that green blanket.” He scoffed and reached over to pick up the blanket.

Eddie popped up, sleep betraying his mind, and held the blanket tightly. “No!” His voice was a raspy mess. “Don’t!” Richie stumbled back a bit, the look of confusion displayed on his face. “Don’t… don’t move it.” He pled, his voice softer.

There was a quiet stillness and Eddie just uncomfortably shifted, knowing he looked like a mess. He looked up at Richie wearily, but then Richie just simply said “okay” and fit himself in next to Eddie anyway. He never brought it up again. Eddie mentally thanked him (and physically thanked him with a kiss).

It wasn’t like he _needed_ it to sleep. He just… really liked it. It reminded him of his father and the good times they used to have. It was nostalgic. Something to hold on to. The only thing in his house he could trust.

If only Richie lived in his house. He trusted Richie with his entire being. Even though he always pretended that he hated Richie and that he was annoyed by him, he honestly believed he had loved Richie ever since he was nine years old and Richie had walked in late to his second grade class, silly string in his hair for no reason. He wore the same pants every day up until sixth grade; Eddie had been the only one to notice. He had only gotten new glasses once; Eddie had been the only one to notice.

Eddie was so caught up in his thoughts, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a soft yet fervent knock at his door. He quickly closed his eyes, feigning sleep as he heard the door open and heavy footsteps shuffle towards him. It was his mother; he would have recognized that heavy breathing anywhere.

Why had his mother come into his room at such late of a time (he suspected it was around 1:00 now)? She came closer to him and he couldn’t help the involuntary twitching of his closed eyelids. He suddenly felt a warmth approach him, a slight pressure pressed near him, and—

He felt the blanket slip out of his grasp.

His heart thundered out of his chest as he felt the soft fabric leave his fingers, cotton by cotton. He suddenly wrenched open his eyes and caught the act of his mother trying to take his possession from him.

 _“What are you doing?!”_ He rasped, sitting up, and holding the blanket with a little bit more force than needed.

His mother’s eyes bulged out of their socket as she jumped back. “Edward! Oh my, you frightened m—“

“What were you doing?” He repeats, ludicrous. His hands search all over the blanket for its familiar softness; the need for it between his fingers stronger than ever. “Why are you in my room?”

Sonia Kaspbrak sighed. “Eddie, you should be asleep right now.” There was a brief silence as he only looked at her with a mix of restrained anger and extreme confusion. “Honey, you’re sixteen now and you shouldn’t be sleeping with—“

He felt every nerve in his body pulsating with anxiety, the blanket tangled up in his arms. “Mom, what are you talking about?”

She sighed again, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve made a deal with one of our neighbors, Mrs. Fuller. You remember Mrs. Fuller, don’t you, dear? She used to come over for dinner.”

“What deal, mom?” His breath got caught.

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re being very rude, Edward. And I don’t appre—“

“Mom." He interrupted. “What. Deal.” He tried to be strong but his voice was shaky, his brain feeling out of socket, rattling around his head.

“Mrs. Fuller is donating a bunch of old items such as clothes and toys to a nice place down town. It’s for children who need things we have and they don’t have… and I spoke up and said my very mature son has a blanket he doesn’t need anymore.”

He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach with an iron fist.

“What?” He squeaked.

“Edward, I know you heard what I said.” She huffed.

Eddie’s mouth gaped open and he sputtered like a fish out of water. “ _You’re donating it!?”_ He choked on a sob.

His mother’s cheeks wobbled as she shook her head in disappointment. “Edward. You are _sixteen_ now. You don’t need to sleep with a child’s blanket any—“

“ _Dad_ gave this to me.” He held it closer to him, scooting back several inches. “And you were just… just going to take it from me without my consent? Sneak into my room while I was asleep?”

She frowned. “Your father died seven years ago. This blanket is old and filthy. It is of no use to you anymore.”

“ _Why?”_ He asked, wiping away the annoying tears that trickled down his cheeks. “ _Why_ do you always have to ruin _everything?”_ She began to walk closer towards him, but he scooted away until his back hit his wall.

“Ed—“

“Mom _please_.” He shook his head back and forth, his voice was trembling, laced with tears. “ _Please_ go away. Please just, please let me have this _one_ thing. I’ll— I’ll put it away and keep it in my drawers, I swear. Please just let me keep it, mommy. Please let me—“

She forcefully ripped the beautiful blanket from his hands. “You are showing extremely immature behavior, Edward. Go to sleep. If I come in here again and you’re awake, you’re grounded.” He held onto that blanket with everything he had left, but in the end, she was bigger and stronger, and she had also slapped him across the cheek. “Honestly, Eddie!”

“Mom, please!” He was weeping now. “Please don’t! Please give it back! Please!”

She left the room despite his cries, shaking her head, and then muttered under her ugly breath: “So disrespectful.”

The second the door closed he screamed. “ _I hate you! I hate you!”_ And he did. She had taken the only memory he had of his father left away from him, and why? Why had she decided to give it away so out of the blue? Blue. All Eddie could now see as the sobs wracked through his body was blue. Blue. Blue. Blue. And red. Angry red. But the sad blue the most.

He fell down off his bed, to his knees, and sobbed for the loss of his only friend in his house of horrors.

Eddie didn’t sleep at all that night. His mother didn’t enter his room again.

He reluctantly went to school the next day, only the thought of seeing Richie and the losers giving him strength.

He left before his mother was up and biked angrily to school. The anger quickly fell back into sadness, the blue taking over again. Blue. Blue. Blue. Blue. Blue. Blu—

“Jeez Eds, you’re really deep in thought, huh?” A warm voice spoke from his left.

Yellow. Blue.

He jumped. He didn’t remember getting to school or getting off his bike. He didn’t even remember taking off his helmet. He looked up at Richie’s beaming face and the entirety of last night came crashing down on him. He couldn’t help the hiccup of a sob that escaped him, tears growing in his brown eyes.

Green.

“Wait, Eds. Eddie. Are you okay?”

That was it. It broke the nonexistent dam he had built up and he let himself fall into Richie’s arms, sobbing and clutching at his shirt.

“Shh. Eds, shh. I got you. I got you.” Richie whispered into Eddie’s hair, kissing his head.

Eddie sniffed, hating the hundreds of tears seeming to leak out of his eyes. “ _She took it.”_ He hiccupped. “ _She— fuck,_ I know… I know I… I should be m-more mature but she just _fucking took it from me,_ Rich.”

Richie rubbed Eddie’s back and forth in soothing circles. “She took what, baby?” He asked, his voice soft and understanding.

He felt embarrassment surge throughout him, but he couldn’t help but whisper, “My… my blanket. My green blanket. She just… she just _took it._ ” His voice broke. “ _My dad gave it to me.”_

Richie held Eddie for what felt like a thousand years, but Richie didn’t mind. He instead whispered encouraging words to him, making a few jokes to try and lighten the mood, and told him everything would be okay. Eddie thought he might have been greedy to think this way and possibly wrong to his father, but Richie was more comforting than the blanket ever was.

…

A few days later, the losers had decided to all go over to Bill’s for Christmas Day. Everyone had gotten stickers from Bev and paper boats from Bill’s younger brother Georgie, although Bill had really done most of the work. Mike gave Stanley a book that discussed all the different types of birds, and although everyone was pretty sure Stan already had that book, it was still sweet and Mike earned a kiss on the cheek. Ben gave Bev another poem. Something about _roses_ and her _laughter_. It was sweet.

All of it was all too sickeningly sweet, but Eddie awed like everyone else until Richie handed Eddie a box.

He rose a brow. “What’s this?”

“A present?” Richie replied. “Unless today’s not Christmas and I totally just fucked up.”

Eddie laughed and kissed Richie’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Richie blushed and shrugged his shoulders in a way that said _don’t mention it_. “Open it.”

Eddie complied and opened it, seeing a jean jacket. He smiled softly. “Thank you, Richie. This is so sweet of you.”

“Try it on!” Ben cheered after having watched the unwrapping.

Mike nodded. “Yeah, see how it fits.”

“There’s a mirror in the guest b-bathroom if you want to see how you l-look.” Bill added, pointing at the direction it was, even though Eddie had been to Bill’s house since he was ten.

“Sure. Okay. Thanks.” He decided, taking the jacket and going to the bathroom. He heard rustling behind him and saw that Richie had followed him.

“Just wanna see how it looks.” Richie said, after having seen Eddie’s confused face.

“Oh? Not just to get me alone?” He giggled and stood on his tippy-toes, pressing a quick kiss to Richie’s mouth.

“Mmm. Eds.” Richie pulled away. “As much as I love the make out stowaway plan, I actually wanna see how you look in it.”

“Okay, okay.” Eddie complied. He unfolded the jacket and held onto the sleeves of his sweater as he put it on so they wouldn’t ride up his arms.

He looked at Richie before the mirror. “Well? How’s it look?”

“Breath taking.” Richie half-smiled. “See for yourself.” He gestured to the mirror.

Blushing, Eddie turned to the mirror when his breath hitched.

On the front of the jacket, there was a green patch of a soft material Eddie would’ve recognized anywhere. He rose his hand up and touched it, the familiar softness bringing tears to his eyes. _Dad._

“Richie… what….?” He asked, shocked. “Is… is this…?”

“Long story short, I went to this thrift store down town and saw it but I couldn’t get the _whole_ blanket, the bitch had already sold it. So I cut out a little part of it before the lucky customer took it away.” He mimicked scissors with his fingers.

“ _Richie…”_ He didn’t try to stop the tears already streaming down his cheeks. “I… Thank you! Thank you. Oh my god, I can’t believe this.” He hugged his arms around himself and pecked several kisses on Richie’s face; some on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, even his stupid glasses. “How did you even—“

“Stan’s grandma’s sewing machine.” Richie shrugged again. “I… I hope you like it. I know how much this blanket meant to you.”

 _You mean more to me._ Eddie smiled, gazing up at Richie. “I love it. I love _you_. Holy shit, I can’t fucking believe this.”

Richie smiled down at Eddie, his eyes glowing. “You better believe it, baby.”

“You’re insane.” Eddie playfully punched Richie’s arm, taking in everything. It wasn’t the full blanket, but Richie had gone through all of the process for him so that, in itself, was enough.

“Insanely in love with you.” Richie grinned, holding Eddie.

The losers all decided to have a sleep over after a night of watching cheesy, horror movies and playing charades, which Ben royally _sucked_ at. Later, when they were all in the sleeping back in the living room, Eddie snuggled himself into Richie’s arms. His jacket on.

He peeked up to check the time.

_12:34_

He felt his lips quirk up. Richie moved and groaned next to him. “Are you still up, Eds?” His voice was laced with sleep. “Aren’t you sleepy?” He yawned.

“I love you.” Eddie only replied, putting his forehead against Richie’s.

Richie giggled. “I love you too, night owl. Now go to sleep.” He kissed Eddie’s lips softly, before holding him tighter, making soft cooing owl noises before someone hit him with a pillow from across the room— probably Stan or Mike.

Eddie made one last peek at the clock.

_12:35_

Complete.

**Author's Note:**

> gross


End file.
